


Of Dwarves and Hair

by thevalesofanduin



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwalin is a cutie, Dwarves being dramatic, F/M, Fluff, Sigrid is amused, Thorin perhaps not so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2239746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has something on her head that looks more like a bird's nest than it looks like actual hair and these dwarves - well, mainly Dwalin - don't want her to cut it?</p>
<p>Let's just say Bilba is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dwarves and Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first (finished) Fem!Bilbo! 
> 
> I'm secretly (well, not anymore) in love with Fem!Bilbo and so I just had to write it. Also thanks to Ajir, of course, who you should go visit at http://lateforerebor.tumblr.com/ because she's awesome!

She’s never been quite attached to her hair.

Hard to control, no matter the length, quite average in color and if the air dares to be humid it will grow twice the size!

She usually wears it in a single braid anyway, to keep it from being in the way. But somewhere during their barrel-ride the tie had come undone.

Now, it is worse than _just_ twice the size.

 

Bilba sits in front of the only fire place in Bard’s house, blanket wrapped around her tightly and sniffling like she’s got a cold – which she doesn’t, thank you very much.

It’s a tight fit as Bard’s house is small and she is both grateful for her spot in front of the fire as she is for the man letting them stay inside his house. Plus, his two daughters are delightful and very much a breath of fresh air after thirteen male dwarves.

“Do you have a bird hiding in there?” Tilda asks Bilba with big, curious eyes.

Sigrid tries to scold her little sister for the question, but her “Tilda!” is hardly effective as she stifles a laugh.

Bilba chuckles. “I wish, darling. At least then I would have an explanation for…” She waves a hand at the mess atop of her head, previously her hair. “This.”

“I could try and brush it for you.” Sigrid offers with a smile.

Bilba feels excited and relieved all at once. “Oh yes, please!”

If she notices the sudden silence in the room, she does not let it on.

 

All the dwarves watch as Sigrid tries to wrestle a comb through Bilba’s hair.

Tilda is standing at Bilba’s legs – although truth be told, with Bilba sitting on a stool the little girl reaches as high as she does – and watches her sister with a frown.

Bilba just tries not to sigh in frustration. “Maybe you should pull harder.”

“No!” Tilda gasps and gives Bilba an almost frightened look. “Then it will hurt.” She sounds doubtful, like only someone with regular tangles in their hair can sound.

At Bilba’s back, Sigrid sighs. “And even if I would, I doubt it would make a difference. I’m not sure if we can salvage this.”

“That’s cause ye’re doing it wrong.” Suddenly, Dwalin visualizes at Bilba’s side, frown on his face as he watches Sigrid struggle.

“Wrong?” Sigrid mutters and glances at him, quickly lowering her eyes back to Bilba’s hair again when he returns the look. These dwarves make her nervous.

“Yes.” Dwalin nods and within two steps he is sitting down on the bench beside Sigrid.

Bilba meanwhile sighs and if Sigrid wasn’t still holding her hair she would shake her head. Confiscate these dwarves!

Glancing at Dwalin warily, Sigrid awkwardly slides a bit away from him. “I take it you want to take a shot?”

“Take a shot?” Dwalin asks and barks a laugh that makes Tilda jump and take a step back. “Lass, I’ll show you how it’s done!”

Bilba is about to turn her head, to tell Dwalin to just leave these girls alone! They are trying to help and she was very happy to have a woman tend to her hair. That’s when she feels his warm, calloused hands at the back of her neck, gathering her curls in his hands.

She nearly shivers at how nice the touch feels.

Perhaps she will let him feel superior for just a moment longer.

 

As it turns out, the way it is done is definitely not how Dwalin does it.

Tilda fled to sit with her father when Dwalin started cursing, Sigrid is beyond amused and Bilba’s head is sore and she just wants to be done with all of this!

She stands up and turns around, looking at her two “saviors” with a frown. She sighs in frustration, shakes her head and places her hands on her hips. “Well, that was a success.” She glares at Dwalin.

Dwalin has the decency to lower his eyes.

Bilba shakes her head. “I knew it. There is only one way to fix this.”

Dwalin’s head snaps up and, sounding confused, he asks: “How?”

Bilba rolls her eyes. “Obvious, isn’t it? The hair has to go.”

There is a collective gasp from the dwarves and Bilba is sure all of them are now looking at her with an almost appalled expression. Dwarves, she thinks and rolls her eyes.

Sigrid, meanwhile, is reacting much better to the news. "Well it is sad, you've got lovely hair." She states and all the dwarves - Dwalin especially, Bilba notes - nod along with her. Then, however, she shrugs. "But I think it's the only way." She stands up and gives Bilba a nod. "I'll get the scissors."

Bilba nods with a somewhat tight smile – it is sad to lose her hair – and sits down.

"No!" Dwalin cries out and jumps up, glaring at Sigrid.

Within the blink of an eye, Fili and Kili are besides Bilba giving her worried glances.

"Not your hair, miss Baggins!" Kili pleads, shaking his head.

"Indeed!" Fili agrees and places a hand atop one of her shoulders. "There is no need to go to such lengths." He assures her with a smile.

Bilba, albeit confused at the reactions she receives, can't help but think Fili will be a great day one day. That doesn't mean she agrees with a single word he says. "There is nothing else to be done, though."

“Nothing else to be done?” Fili echoes sadly.

“Bilba…” Kili almost whimpers.

Bilba frowns. Well that surely is an awfully emotional reaction, she thinks. She knows that dwarves are rather partial of their hair but this is just ridiculous! 

"Bilba, please don't think this is necessary." Dwalin says, walking up to her.

In his apparent worry, he forgets niceties and calls her by her name.

Bilba gasps, for it sounds better in his voice than she could have ever imagined, Gloin mumbles about being forward and Fili and Kili have grins on their faces.

Dwalin is oblivious to the others and instead kneels in front of Bilba, placing his hands on hers as he gruffly says: "Just because some oaf has spoken untruths does not mean you have ta believe him. " He glares at Thorin, stating: "An oaf that ought ta apologize."

Bilba bites her lip, trying to keep herself from giggling at Dwalin calling Thorin - who else can he be talking about? - an oaf of all things! If she wasn't so frustrated with her hair right now she would've thought it cute for sure.

From across the room, Thorin glares at Dwalin for a moment before giving Bilba a rather forced apologetic look. "You have done us a great service so far."

"Well I might hope so! Trolls, goblins, spiders and a dungeon I'd box your ears if you would deny it." Bilba rolls her eyes.  
Relief washes over Dwalin and he squeezes his hands around hers and oh does that feel nice. "Good. So no cutting yer hair."

Bilba sighs, giving a Dwalin a pointed look. These dwarves and their hair! "Of course I am cutting my hair." She shakes her head. "Have you looked at it? If I leave it like this it will only get worse."

“I’m sure there are other ways.” Dwalin says.

Sigrid huffs and mutters under her breath: “Probably not.”

Bilba can’t help but agree. “Sigrid?” She stands to turn a questioning look at the girl who nods and saunters off to find a pair of scissors.

Dwalin reaches out a hand to touch a lone curl that falls over her shoulder. He can barely reach, still kneeling in front of Bilba – she is trying not to think about that too much as nothing respectful could come from it. He raises his eyes and with a voice so soft it only reaches her ears, pleads: “Just don’t cut your hair.”

The room had become eerily quiet, even Bard and his children had ceased their conversations at the sight of the big, strong warrior kneeling in front of the small, soft hobbit lady begging her not to cut her hair.

Bilba swallows, a lump stuck in her throat. The pleading look in Dwalin’s eyes and the softness of his voice make her heart soar and she finally sees what she should’ve realized all along.

She loves this idiot and, from the looks of it, he at least cares about her a lot in return.

But no matter what, even if Dwalin is in love with her and even though dwarves are very weird with their hair, this isn’t just about cutting it.

She looks into Dwalin’s eyes, feels her heart stutter for a moment, and clenches her hands into fists to keep from reaching out and cupping his face. “Why?” She whispers.

For a moment, Dwalin frowns. Then he sees her confusion and understanding dawns upon him. He stands up and waves a hand at the bench he was sitting on earlier with Sigrid. “Please have a seat, miss Baggins, for I think there is something that should be explained to you.”

Bilba feels disappointed he doesn’t call her Bilba, but follows Dwalin with a roll of her eyes and sits down next to him. “I would not be surprised.” She says and glances around the room at the others. “You dwarves and your secrets.”

None of them look at her, though. All too caught up in fake conversations that will allow them to hear every word spoken between Dwalin and herself.

She sighs. They are worse than hobbits.

“Not so much a secret as perhaps a misunderstanding.” Balin says, walking up to the pair with a friendly smile.

Bilba hears Dwalin’s sigh of relief at his brother taking over the conversation and stifles a laugh.

“How so?” She asks Balin instead.

“Us dwarves, we don’t cut our hair lightly.” Balin explains in his usual soft, pleasant tone. “Usually it is only our beards we cut and is only done out of remorse, guilt or other things such as treason. As you have no beard, saying you will cut your hair is akin to cutting your beard.”

“Aye, and as there have been events during this journey that could have made you doubt your own worth…” Dwalin ads with a glare at Thorin.

So that’s it. Now that she finally knows, Bilba understands the dwarves’ worry. Yet as with everything else, also sees they are very much overreacting. She nods at the brothers with a sweet smile. “Thank you for explaining.” She says. “Now as for me cutting my hair. I hardly think that anything happened for quite a few weeks that could have made me doubt my own worth.” In fact, Thorin had apologized to her. Purposefully.

“Good.” Dwalin nods.

“Also, I am not a dwarf. Do you agree?” She asks.

Balin gives her a knowing look.

Dwalin, however, isn’t so quick to catch on and merely nods, assuring her that “That’s quite obvious.”

Bilba nods, satisfied. “Well, that’s good then. In that case, you know that if I cut my hair it doesn’t mean anything other than me cutting my hair because it is too long, too full of knots and we already tried but can’t get them out.”

Balin chuckles, Dwalin looks flabbergasted and Sigrid takes this as her chance to finally hand Bilba the scissors.

When she hands them to Bilba she smiles. She looks at the scissors, at Dwalin and then at Bilba with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

Bilba winks and Sigrid wishes her “good luck” before going back to sit next to Bain on one of the beds lining the back wall.

Bilba glances at Dwalin. Her heart is hammering in her chest because she knows that what she is about to say is important. Will surely change things between them.

Yet she wants to at least try.

She takes a breath in the hopes of calming herself down a bit and offers: "So, if you are so upset about my hair being cut, you can cut it if you want."

Dwalin’s head snaps up towards her so fast it makes her wince. His eyes are wide and his voice shakes slightly when he asks: "I... you would trust me that much?"

"Of course." Bilba nods. She chuckles and shrugs, not being able to stop herself from joking: "It's just hair."

"Just hair?" Dwalin echoes.

"I think, brother, this is the point where you thank the lady for the offer and get to it already.” Balin tells his brother. He stands up and winks at Bilba before sauntering off, leaving the two alone.

Bilba turns to Dwalin and holds out the scissors for him. “Would you cut my hair?” She asks him softly, blush on her cheeks.

Dwalin nods, takes her hand in his and lifts it to his mouth. “I would be honored.” He murmurs before kissing her soft skin.

_Well, that is unexpected._ Bilba thinks faintly, gasp escaping her. And when Dwalin raises his eyes and gives her a slightly shy smile she can only return it.

She silently thanks the Valar for her disastrous hair.

 

Dwalin stands behind her as he cuts her hair with the utmost care.

Bilba enjoys it entirely too much, especially so when his fingers accidentally brush against her skin. But it only happens accidentally once or twice. After that, when his fingers often graze against the spot behind her ear that makes her breathing hitch or linger on that small patch of skin on the back of her neck that makes her shiver, she knows it’s intentional.

She does not mind his lingering fingers, though. She merely closes her eyes and hums to herself.

And when he is done and she notices there are a few strands behind her right ear that he hasn’t cut, but has instead kept long so they fall over her shoulder, she does not say.

And when the company roars with whistles and laughter when those strands are actually a braid adorned with one of Dwalin’s own beads, she only smiles fondly as Dwalin himself blushes red all the way to the tips of his ears.


End file.
